


Growing people

by Melitot



Series: By watchfires and thrones of crowned kings [14]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Body Paint, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Frigga Lives (Marvel), Hermaphrodites, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Kilts, Kings & Queens, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Feels, M/M, Mating Rituals, Mentions of pregnant sex, Mild Smut, Other, Politics, Post-Avengers Asgard, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Post-Thor: The Dark World, Post-Wedding, Pregnancy, Pregnancy surprises, Smart Thor (Marvel), Sneaky Frigga (Marvel), Thor Feels (Marvel), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warning: Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melitot/pseuds/Melitot
Summary: Loki is in Jötunheim when his child moves for the first time.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Series: By watchfires and thrones of crowned kings [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/28127
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83





	Growing people

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Persone che crescono](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3548246) by [Melitot Proud Eye (Melitot)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melitot/pseuds/Melitot%20Proud%20Eye). 



> No, I haven't abandoned this series! A nice reviewer managed to rouse me from my RL-induced stupor and pushed me back to translating 😊  
> I hadn't even realized that it had been two years since I had worked on this. Where has my memory gone?  
> Well, hopefully you won't have to wait as long to read the next parts. For now, enjoy!

  
**I**

One of Thor's hands strokes his belly from sternum to pelvis, slow, soft. Its calloused palm often lingers on the Golden Line and the _kýn_ markings. A thumb tickles his bellybutton.  
Still warmth on his abdomen.  
Loki watches that hand move out of the corner of his eye, cheek on a pillow, deeply relaxed. Now and then his muscles twitch, reacting to touch.  
"How long will they last?", Thor murmurs.  
"They will disappear soon enough" he answers, distracted. "Once the magic has aged, the minerals will flake off if exposed to the elements." His mouth curves almost involuntarily. "But not before the Line has had the chance to be very noticeable."  
Right now the prospect sounds exciting to him. He might be tipsy. (Hormones.)  
Thor lifts his eyes and smiles as if there were no tomorrow.  
When they stop kissing Loki lets him keep touching, finding comfort in the closeness. He feels different, not just because his desire is now quiescent. He feels... balanced. Full of life. He thought he wouldn't feel it so soon (deluded himself into thinking he could pretend a little longer), but he has no doubts: there is something inside him. Someone.  
_Norns_ , he swears, and then tries not to think anymore.  
High above them galaxies rotate, astral bodies quiver suspended between reality and dream. The interior of the Observatory is outlined by their vague luminescence, like a dark room facing a street. In the echo that reverberates inside their secret refuge, Loki recognizes familiar notes.  
"Don't expect me to visit Asgard too often", he sighs. "The climate won't be the best."  
He's not talking exclusively of the weather, and Thor seems to understand.  
"We'll work on that."

  
**II**

They come back the following evening, to do it one last time in the bathtub and collapse on the bed still wet.  
In the morning, Loki distracts Thor long enough for them to be late to breakfast. Whey they go downstairs, the great hall is packed and the hangovers from the celebration party all slept off. Only the growing silence of the crowd makes Thor realize – physically – the fact that, barring a little grin, Loki is wearing the usual _kjálta_ with cloak and nothing else. His state is in full view of everyone, especially of Jötnar eyes.  
And Thor is the person standing next to him.  
Needless to say, they cause a stir.  
When they sit at the main table Loki catches their mother's arch look, laughs and starts exchanging ironic quips with Sif, who seems perplexed and a tad exasperated. Then the meaning of the paint on his body leaves the _hrimthurs_ ' disbelieving mouths, enters Aesir ears and gossips its way out of the palace confines. In his best style, Loki chooses that moment to leave on a mission.  
"Where are you going?"  
He smiles, innocent. "I'm taking a diplomatic tour through the city. I've been postponing it way too long."  
Thor opens his mouth to dissuade him (after the stunt of the surprise marriage, an official announcement is the least they could do, now), then thinks better of it. His mother looks happy and calm, and he doesn't want to argue with Loki. Alright, then. Thor is grateful he won't have to follow the upcoming circus show.  
At least, he is until he spies Asgard's Council men clustered in the corridor leading to his office, all staring at him from apoplectic countenances.

His palms are tingling.  
In retrospect, going with Loki wouldn't have been such a bad idea. It seems that his consort is taking pains to reveal whom exactly has hands made golden from his paint to any and every huddle of acquaintances, beggars and servants he meets. Not in so many words, but Loki is a master of insinuation, and no music falls into curious people's ears better than that. Now there is no living soul who is not staring at Thor's hands.  
After some time it stops bothering him and becomes funny. Others wear a ring; he has got something better.  
Even if a second, Asgardian ceremony looks more and more like a mandatory outcome by the hour.  
"A double honeymoon, then" he tells his most boring advisors, throwing extra work on their shoulders with a smile.  
They will deal with the necessary evil, also known as paperwork, while his mother has fun planning the wedding of the millennium. He can already picture her. He supposes she was waiting for this moment since... better not guess since when. They owe her, after all. And, if he must be honest, unavoidable rituals aside he likes the idea of openly celebrating his union.  
Not everyone is happy, of course. Some accept it with indifference, too caught up in their own lives, others disapprove. For the first time since Loki's coronations and the official alliance between Jötunheim and Asgard, there is an upsurge of unpleasant comments, insults and disrespectful gestures toward Jötnar and Aesir alike.  
Thor keeps them under control but punishes no one. Everybody has a right to their own opinion, as long as no one gets hurt; moreover, both sides have proven to be resistant to orders concerning these matters. And he knows that, once Loki and he appear before the peoples holding their child in their arms, the sight of new life will do political miracles.  
He will be a good father – but he is no naïve ruler.  
Loki stays just as alert, helped by his spies, and enjoys their honeymoon in the meantime. Orchestrating intrigue and aggravating Thor have always been his greatest pleasures.  
He shows Thor his naked abdomen, always his naked abdomen. Not a finger below the cradle of his hips, often not a finger above his lower rib; as if Thor didn't know the rest.  
Yet still it works. It's not a matter of familiarity with the body, but of exalting a symbol: the belly as a promise of life and sex. Seduction of the future. Loki's body is also toned and wide and Thor loves it with particular intensity, especially when he can grab him by the hips and admire the contrast between narrow waist and warrior's torso.  
It's a seduction he gladly yields to.

  
**III**

Expecting a child is as he thought it would be and the exact opposite, too. Loki does not get nausea, because Jötnar physiology is immune to it, but his appetite is a disaster nonetheless: on certain days he craves only algae and raw meat, on others only roasts and sweets, and on the remaining days he wants neither or both, mixed in ways his brain finds disgusting but make his taste buds sing.  
He gets mood swings a bit too reminiscent of his Manhattan experience and the Ether. And with the Asgardian heat his legs tend to swell, while in Jötunheim he's more sensitive to the cold, something that worries him since his child is half-Aesir. He's come to a point where he doesn't know where to go and what to do anymore.  
But not all changes are questionable. On the contrary. A few of them generously compensate for the bother. For example – above all – he has never had more satisfying sex.  
He's sensitive, always slightly swollen, always wet. Any time Thor puts a hand between his legs, fingers slide and enter with ease, coming back dripping, accompanied by a moan. Thor's feral smiles abound (and so frantic fucks in dark corners). Thor is also extremely attentive in care, sweetness and massages.  
Loki takes it all and asks for more still. He's consumed by want of his beautiful, manly, oh-so-accommodating consort. If he must deliver with pain at the end of the year, at least let it be a year of fireworks.  
And if he doesn't get them... assistants nurses husbands wifes and anyone within range will learn what it means to feel sore and annoyed while expecting.  
Nothing heals one's suffering like spreading it around.

  
**IV**

Loki is in Jötunheim when his child moves for the first time.  
Thor is with him. Deep into a moonsless night, they sleep inside the royal chamber – or try to do so. Thor was cold, so he buried himself under a mountain of furs and, to hold Loki in his arms, ended up burying him as well. His body is a wall of fire pressing against poor Jötun shoulders, back, thighs and knees, not to mention the heavy arm he wrapped around Loki's waist. The hand attached to that arm is resting flat upon Loki's abdomen and radiating even more heat.  
To Loki, already strangely unsettled, the stuffiness and inability to move make the situation unbearable. As soon as Thor crawled on him he stopped dozing and began fidgeting. An irrational part of him doesn't want to push the man away: the intimate proximity found inside this cocoon makes him feel protected. But soon he gets to the point of wondering why Thor isn't getting the hint and scramming.  
He's about to land him a jab to the stomach, even at the risk of fighting, when a sensation stops him: it's a soft movement under Thor's hand, inside his own belly.  
He stiffens, holding his breath.  
Thor felt it, too. He must, there is no way he's not awake after all his twitching. Loki cannot have imagined it.  
And indeed it's starting again and, oh, Thor's fingers move, pushing lightly. An intake of breath, full of wonder.  
Slowly, Loki moves an arm and puts his own hand next to his. Their child is alive, full of strength. It moves inside of him like a butterfly.  
Thor's fingers slide through his. Loki thinks of all their mutual experiences and knows that they never shared a more personal one. He becomes aware that he's crying.  
"Loki?"  
He shakes his head, eyes squeezed tight. Thor lifts himself a little to kiss his temple and draw him even closer.  
"Are you alright?"  
Loki answers with a nod.  
"Was" Thor voice breaks, "was this the first time?"  
Another nod. Norns.  
"Talk to me."  
"I'm scared" he whispers.  
Thor moves the hand he was keeping on Loki's belly to touch his cheek. Loki hides against his big, warm palm.  
"Me too" Thor admits. "Nobody is ever ready... but we will be together. It will be fine."  
_You can't know that_ , Loki wants to say, but his throat has closed up. And Thor has been right many times in the past.  
"Love and perseverance will be our allies."  
Frigga's words, as wise and benevolent as she, murmured in his ear.  
They will have her as a guide, too.  
Thor kisses his temple, his forehead, anywhere he can reach. He combs long fingers through Loki's hair, eyes shining.  
"We're going to have a child" he says, full of joy and wonder.  
Slowly, the tears dry up. Then Loki is smiling and cannot seem to stop.

  
**V**

Not even a month later Loki touches himself and frowns. Something is wrong. There is something strange happening inside him.  
As he always does when in need of counsel and comfort, he goes to his mother, who weaves around his body enchantments perfected by her and Eir for the healing halls. When she is done Frigga gives a gentle pat to the back of his hand, holding his fingers in a reassuring way.  
"Rest easy" she says, "everything is fine, all par course. No abnormalities."  
"Oh."  
"Given the parents."  
Loki looks askance at her. "Thanks, mother."  
"You're welcome" she laughs. "Ah. And it's twins."  
Loki, who was about to reply with a certain amount of sarcasm, jerks his head toward her. Then opens his eyes wide, his mouth wider. Twins?  
_Twins?_  
His mother interprets his silence and nods.  
"Just two, I hope" he croaks.  
He will never admit to having made that sound, ever.  
The smile she was trying to conceal grows. "Yes, my dear. I would say that is enough for now."  
"For now?" Loki says, indignant. "For ever! If you and Thor hope to see more you're both crazy– I let him put his hands on me once and look... look–" He breaks off, gaping from the enormity of the revelation, eyes staring into nothingness. He deflates all of a sudden. "I can't believe it. He knocked me up with twins" he moans. "Two. _Two_."  
That mantra boils and seethes inside his head until Frigga gently clears her throat. At that point, Loki is furious enough to have moved past the shock.  
"It's just like him to have fun and leave the bother to me. But he'll see. Oh, he'll see."

  
**VI**

"How will we name them?" he asks, one morning. "Have you already thought of anything?"  
Thor breathes in deeply, ending in a half-whine. "I tried. I haven't the slightest idea. And I'm afraid of asking Volstagg."  
Loki turns on his side to see him better, cheek resting on the hollow of his own right arm.  
"Didn't you learn your royal naming traditions, back in the day?" he says, a tad mocking.  
"What about you?"  
He has to smile. Caught. "No... but I'm not the champion of the House of Odin, after all."  
Thor grimaces at him, naked, muscled chest rising and sinking with every breath in the lantern light. Blond fuzz defines all its hills and valleys.  
"Champion or not, it has always been you the scholar between us, o cadet prince." He sweetens the memory with a caress to his belly.  
Loki lifts one shoulder. "Names of the grandparents?"  
"Would you really name them–"  
"Our grandparents."  
"Ugh, Bor and Fyörginn? Or Bestla and... what was mom's mother's name? Those are names straight out of the sagas, times have changed."  
Loki furrows his brow, lifts himself up a little. "You're not thinking of naming them John or Jack or, or Tony, I hope–" he shudders.  
Thor bursts into laughter. "I reckoned these things were to be discussed together!"  
"...Hm. As long as you're aware of it."  
Thor looks at him from honest blue eyes. "Don't you want to give them Jötun names? Or Jötun names as well? They won't be just princes of Asgard, after all."  
Loki seems to hold little enthusiasm for the prospect. "The second one might be a good idea."  
He falls silent, pensive, and they spend the next minutes relaxing on the mattress while the children kick. When the movements have ceased, Loki turns his head on the pillow and stares at Thor.  
"Why not Moði and Magni?"  
Thor arches his eyebrows, shakes his head with a smile. Always, with Loki, everything is a test.  
"These are the first children you have ever given me... and they will be unique in every way."  
"Ah." Pleasure, amusement. Loki's mouth curves. "It looks like you learnt something in the last centuries." He rolls over and presses against his side. "And I wasn't even aware of it..."  
"Liar."

At the turn of the seventh month they plant two ash tree sprouts in Frigga's gardens, so that they may grow into the centuries along with Yggdrasil and their children.

**Author's Note:**

> Auto-betaread to the best of my ability. Feel free to point out any mistakes/strange phrases!


End file.
